Harry Potter and the Chosen One
by Corwin Croft
Summary: Harry Potter is a young, ordinary wizard who's life is turned upside down when he meets The Chosen One.
1. Nightmares on Privet Drive

Nightmares on Privet Drive

A bloodcurdling scream. A flash of green light. Silence.

Harry sat straight up, gasping for breath. Sweat poured from his forehead. His heart was banging out of his chest. He'd had the nightmare again.

Suddenly, dust fell from the ceiling as heavy footsteps descended the stairs above Harry's head.

"Harry!" a shrill voice whispered forcefully as the door to the cupboard under the stairs swung open. "What the devil is going on in here?"

"Nothing, Uncle Vernon. Nothing," Harry responded, still trying to catch his breath. "Just another nightmare."

"Boy. I did you a huge favor allowing you into my house!" His uncle, a large and hairy man, stepped closer to Harry's pallet on the floor with each word. "I didn't have to be so gracious, you know." He was practically stepping on Harry.

"Yes, sir."

"I let you into my house, and how do you repay me? Screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night, horrifying my family! One more stunt like that and you'll be out on the street. You hear me, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"To sleep. Now!" Clouds of dust rose from the floor as Vernon Dursley slammed the door shut. Harry tried to cough as inaudibly as possible; however, it was still too loud for his uncle, who proceeded stomping on the staircase, boisterously demanding silence.

Harry lay back down, distraught at waking up from one nightmare only to find himself in another.

The next morning, Harry sat alone at the table in the kitchen of Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England. He sighed as he slowly stirred his cold oatmeal. Harry wasn't allowed to eat breakfast with his so-called family. His aunt, uncle, and cousin had finished their warm breakfast of bacon and eggs and were now in the sitting room watching television—one of his cousin Dudley's favorite activities.

Harry forced himself to take another bite of his breakfast. The only way for him to swallow was to close his eyes and try to imagine what his mother's homemade waffles would have tasted like.

_Happy birthday, Harry _he joked himself as he ate. _What can possibly be happy about this day?_

When Harry finished his "meal," he washed his dishes and slowly went back to his cupboard. He lay down, hoping to sleep off a few hours. Sleeping was the only way to pass time at the Dursley house. He hadn't closed his eyes for two minutes before he heard a pounding on the door.

"Boy! What are you doing in there?" Suddenly the door swung open and before Harry could react, a large arm reached inside, grabbed Harry's shoulder, and yanked him out of his tiny bedroom. "You know better than to have leisure time after breakfast! As long as you're under my roof you are carry your own weight around here! What do you think this is, a babysitting service? Now go!" He threw open the door to the kitchen and hurled Harry onto the hard floor. "Clean, boy!"

A bit later, Dudley grew bored with watching television. He decided to go into the kitchen and pester Harry, who was almost finished cleaning the kitchen. Bullying was another of his favorite pastimes.

"Dudley! I just scrubbed that!" Harry shouted as Dudley marched around the kitchen, leaving a track of muddy footprints. Dudley sneered. This happened every day, and every day Harry got angrier and angrier at his cousin.

"Mum! Dad! Harry raised his voice at me!"

Harry heard the couch's squeal of relief as Uncle Vernon clambered to his feet and swiftly clomped into the kitchen. "That's it, boy! I've had enough of you!" His face turning a strange shade of purple, Vernon came at Harry. And just before his hand clasped over Harry's shoulder, the doorbell rang.

"Petunia! Get the door, will you?" Vernon bellowed at his wife in the living room. Hope filled Harry's entire body. Was this the light at the end of the tunnel? Out of excitement, Harry wriggled out of Vernon's grip and ran as fast as he could out of the kitchen.

"Harry! Get back here, boy, I'm not finished with you!"

The door swung shut behind him as he ran to the front door. Aunt Petunia was already there, peering through the peep hole.

"Oh my…" Petunia muttered to herself, half elated, half frightened. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly. Harry was filled with anticipation. Finally, when the door was opened, he saw green sparkling eyes staring into his own. He was overwhelmed with the warmest feeling he had ever felt.

Harry ran to hug the tall, pretty woman standing in the doorway.

"Mum!"


	2. Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home

Vernon Dursley came plodding out of the kitchen, bellowing after Harry. "Why, you are the most… Lily. You're back early!" He stopped dead in his tracks. He looked just as excited to see this woman as Harry had.

"You wouldn't think I would miss my own son's birthday, do you?" said the redheaded woman, smiling broadly.

"Where's that freak husband of yours?" Vernon asked rudely. Harry grimaced at his uncle while his mother only smiled.

"Why don't you gather your belongings so we can be on our way, dear," Lily Potter said, ignoring her brother-in-law's question.

"Way ahead of you, mum!" Harry said enthusiastically, pulling his trunk from the cupboard under the stairs.

"Well, thank you so much for watching him," Lily said to her sister, Petunia. "We would've had Sirius watch him as usual, but he had some—some important business to take care of."

"Oh, it was no hassle at all!" Petunia answered sweetly. "Anytime you need us for anything, do not hesitate to…"

"No hassle?" Vernon interrupted. "The boy was nothing _but _a hassle!"

"Don't hesitate to ask," Petunia finished.

Vernon, his face turning purple, opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a series of strange grunts. Angrily he marched into the living room.

"I'm so sorry about him, Lily. He's made Harry's stay here miserable. I feel so sorry for the boy, but you know Vernon."

"He'll come around," Lily said cheerfully. "Are you ready, Harry?" Harry nodded vigorously as he grabbed his mother's hand. "We must get together more often, Petunia."

"Yes, we must! Goodbye Lily! Goodbye Harry! It was nice having you stay with us for a while!"

"Goodbye, Aunt Petunia!"

There was a loud crack and in the next moment, Petunia was alone in her hallway by the front door. With a sigh, she closed the door and gloomily joined her husband and her son on the couch in the living room.

There was a loud crack and in the next moment, Harry Potter and his mother were standing in front of their home in Godric's Hollow. Harry couldn't wait to get inside. He wanted so badly to see his own bedroom. To sit in his own living room. To eat his own mother's homemade cooking. No longer was Harry forced to attend to every need of his uncle and cousin. He was a free man!

"Alohomora," Lily said, pointing a wand at the large front door, which immediately clicked. As she swung the wand forward, the door busted open and Harry nearly busted with excitement. He eagerly ran inside, practically kissing every inch of the floor.

"When will dad be home?" asked Harry after he had thrice happily paraded about the house.

"Soon, Harry," she answered grimly. Harry didn't know what his parents had been up to over the past three weeks, but he had his suspicions.

"What business were you taking care of?"

"Oh, nevermind that, Harry! That's not important."

"Did it have to do with—with, You-Know-Who?"

"I bet that awful man didn't feed you much, did he, Harry? You've lost some weight. Here, have a treacle tart!"

Now that she mentioned it, he was very hungry. He happily accepted the treat which seemed to appear on the kitchen table out of thin air. As Harry sat down at the table, the tart disappeared just as quickly as it had materialized.

"That was delicious," Harry said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Now, you never answered my question."

"Oh, Harry, don't be silly. You know good and well that—that You-Know-Who has been dead for ten years!"

"But…"

"Enough of that, Harry. If your father and I thought you should know what we were up to, we would've told you."

Right when she finished her sentence, a great horned owl flew through the window. It dropped a brown envelope on the table right in front of Harry and flew away.

"Harry!" Lily exclaimed. "Is that what I think it is?"

Harry picked up the envelop which was addressed to him in green ink. He turned the letter over and saw a coat of arms featuring an H surrounded by a lion, a snake, an eagle, and a badger. A banner beneath the symbol read "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus." The wax seal brandished another letter H. He knew what this was. It was his acceptance letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! He'd been waiting for this letter his whole life! He ripped the envelop open and pulled out two pieces of paper inside.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Harry Potter,

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
><em>Yours Sincerely,<br>Minerva McGonagall _Deputy Headmistress.

Whatever curiosity Harry had about his parents completely dispelled when he read this letter. He couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts! He didn't think he could wait an entire month.

"Mum, they are expecting my owl today!" Harry frantically pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing a letter back.

"That's strange," Lily said, eyeing the letter. "You really should've gotten this before today."

A few minutes of silence passed. Lily sat at the table and watched her son fervently scribbling words onto paper. She was so proud of him. She knew that he was going to be one of the best wizards that ever walked the halls of Hogwarts. She reminisced on her own years at Hogwarts. They were truly the best seven years of her life! She couldn't wait to see her own son's accomplishments over the next years.

"You know, there was a time when I didn't think this letter was ever going to come. You really are an amazing young man. You're going to do great things, Harry." She leaned over and kissed her son's forehead as tears came to her eyes. Her baby really was growing up.


	3. The Leaky Cauldron

The Leaky Cauldron

Harry and his parents walked through the streets of London. He was ecstatic! Sure, he had been to Diagon Alley plenty of times. Sometimes his mother wanted to go see some famous author speaking at Flourish & Blott's. Sometimes his dad would take him to look at the broomsticks. Occasionally his father would allow him to journey into the depths of Britain to visit the Potter vault in Gringott's. But even that was only on special occasions.

The Potter's turned right onto Charing Cross Road. Now, only moments away from the Leaky Cauldron, Harry started to grow a bit nervous. He was arriving later than most of the other Hogwarts first years. What if they were out of his textbooks? What if there weren't enough cauldrons left? What if someone already bought all the toads? He has always wanted a toad.

_What am I thinking?_ Harry asked himself. _This is the wizarding world of Britain. There's no way they could simply run out of something. Right?_

At last, the family reached the tiny, grubby-looking pub. "Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry!" his father said proudly. "It's a famous place, you know."

Harry had only heard about the place. He had never actually been here before. Anytime he went to Diagon Alley with his parents, they would travel by floo powder. But today, for some reason, his father decided to go the old fashioned way. Harry heard him whisper something to his mother about being tracked by Malfoy.

Harry looked around at all the muggles. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. "Dad, why are we here?"

As if he didn't even hear the question, James Potter held the door open and practically pushed Harry and Lilly inside.

"For a 'famous place,' it's very dark and shabby," Harry pointed out. And he was right! A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this – can this be –?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter . . ."

Dead silence.

"Who in the name of Helga Hufflepuff is Harry Potter?" asked the old woman with the pipe.

The place was again filled with sounds of chatter and clinking glasses.

"Oh, just the son of a couple of friends is all," replied the bartender to the old woman. "James and Lilly Potter," he said as he turned back toward the Potters. "It does my soul well to see you again. How long has it been?"

"Too long, Tom. Too long," replied James. "It's Harry's first year at Hogwarts! We came in to do a bit of school supply shopping."

"Well, Mr. Harry Potter. I wish you good luck in the years ahead. You're about to go on a wild adventure! And, if you're like your old man, you'd be lucky to live through it!"

The bartender and Harry's father slapped each other on the back as they began laughing hard at old Hogwarts memories.

"Well, Tom, it was good seeing you. You take care! We've got to get going. We have a schedule to keep!"

"Alright, James. You take care, you hear! Lilly, you're just as beautiful as ever. Stay in touch, you two. Feel free to come by anytime for a drink and a visit."

"Will do, Tom!"

"Goodbye, Tom!" Lilly said with a smile as she turned to follow James.

As Harry followed his parents to a side door, he noticed a pale young man walking, very nervously. One of his eyes began twitching. James noticed him too, for when he saw him he stopped walking. "Harry," James turned around and whispered. "That's Professor Quirrell, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

Harry's parents led him out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

"Is he always that nervous?" Harry asked his dad when they were out of earshot from the young professor.

"I'm not sure, Harry. He used to be just fine. But I heard he was tired of studying out of books, so he decided to go get some first-hand experience. Rumor has it, he met vampires in the Black Forest. And he ran into some trouble with a hag. Apparently, he's never been the same since. I haven't seen him since I heard the story, but I guess it's true! At least partially. Something traumatizing must have happened to the poor guy for him to change like that. I heard he's even scared of his students!" James whipped out his wand and began tapping bricks on the wall.

The bricks began to quiver. They wriggled. A small hole appeared in the wall which grew wider and wider. Moments later, they were facing a large archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

Harry knew instantly what he was looking at: Diagon Alley!


	4. The Boy Who Lived

The Boy Who Lived

Harry happily walked with his mother through the streets of Diagon Alley. Sporting his brand new robes and brandishing his new wand (10 ¾ inch; made of rowan; unicorn hair core), Harry was in his own little world. He couldn't believe he was finally holding his very own wand. He's held wands before, but none have ever felt so… so natural. This one felt like it was made just for him.

"Harry," his mother said gently. No response. "Harry. Harry. Harry!"

"What?" Harry replied, startled.

"Put your wand up and pay attention. You just practically ran over that poor old woman."

"Sorry." He barely paid any attention to what she had said. He was still turning his wand over and over in his hands, still closely eyeing every detail.

Harry and his parents spent the day going in and out of shops, purchasing all of the supplies needed for his first year at Hogwarts. Just before Harry went to Ollivander's to purchase his wand, James went to take care of some "business" at Gringotts. No matter how much Harry begged, his father wouldn't let him tag along. Harry thought that was very odd.

Harry knew something was wrong. He knew his parents were hiding something from him.

"Well we're all finished. We just need to find your father, and we can—"

"Hello, Potters," came a dark, cold voice. A voice cold enough to make Harry forget all about his wand. He knew instantly who that voice belonged to. Harry slowly lifted his head and looked into a pair of cold, gray eyes. The pale, pointed face he saw staring back at him could only belong to one man: Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius. How do you do?"

The man pushed Harry aside and grabbed his mother's shoulder, bringing her in close to him. "Lilly Potter," he whispered through clenched teeth. "I know what you and that meddling husband of yours are up to. You're sticking your noses where they don't belong. If you aren't careful, you just might find yourself in a familiar situation. Only this time, things will be different." He threw her backwards and swiftly walked away. "By the way, you're missing the show at Flourish & Blott's!" he called casually over his shoulder, as if he was walking away from a chat with a friend about the weather.

"What was that about, mum?" Harry asked her.

"Harry, you really don't need to know."

"You-Know-Who isn't dead, is he?"

"Harry, why would you even say such a horrible thing?"

"Because, I've been having nightmares about him."

Harry and his mother locked gazes. He could see in her eyes that she knew things weren't as they should be. "Harry, I— I don't know what to tell you. You-Know-Who died long ago. He's gone. But he left a legacy, Harry. He left hundreds of followers."

"And Lucius Malfoy is one of the only ones not in Azkaban. What can he do?"

"Harry, there are more of his followers than you might think. Many of them are indeed locked away. More of them, like Malfoy, are not."

"Mum, I know you and dad wouldn't be going through all of this trouble over a bunch of death eaters! You've handled them before, remember?"

He couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. Before he realized what he was saying, it was too late. The tears began to flow from his mother's eyes. He had gone too far.

"Harry, stop. If your father and I thought you should know what is going on, we would have told you. It's none of your business. You are eleven years old, Harry. There are some things in the world that little boys like you don't need to know."

"Mum, I—"

"Enough, Harry. Here comes your father."

"Lilly, what happened?" James asked as he ran up to his wife. He wiped the tears from her eyes and hugged her close as she began to whisper in his ear. Harry saw the rage building up in his father. His face turned red and his face twisted into a frown.

"Don't listen to him, honey. He's just trying to scare us away."

"Well, it's working, James!" Lilly yelled. "I'm done! I can't risk losing you or Harry! Petey was enough loss for one lifetime!"

"Lilly, this will all be over soon." He was trying to remain quiet so that Harry wouldn't hear, but it was no use anymore.

"That's what you said eleven years ago, James. But it's not. It will never be over!"

"Lilly, please."

"There's nothing we can do, James! We are just two people! Against a hundred? A thousand? Who knows anymore?"

"Honey, we have a hope now."

"Stop talking, James! I'm done!"

She broke out of his embrace and walked toward the archway leading back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Lilly, stop!" James chased after her. Harry slowly followed.

_This is more than a death eater problem_, he thought.

He followed his parents back through the maze of streets, shops, and vendors. How do they know their way around this place? There are so many twists and turns. Just when Harry thought they were about to reach the archway, they take another turn in the opposite direction.

They walk for about ten minutes before they are forced to stop. They can't go forward anymore. A huge crowd stood outside the Flourish & Blotts bookstore. They were pushing and shoving, shouting and cheering. They couldn't wait to get inside and see the magical spectacle inside. Harry stretched his neck as far as he could but couldn't see what was inside the store. Another famous wizard author perhaps, here to sign books.

"What is this?" James asked curiously.

"Lucius said something about a show at Flourish & Blotts," she answered as she rubbed dry tears off of her face. "I didn't care to ask what he was talking about."

"He's probably in there," James said as he whipped out his wand. He began to force his way through the crowd before Lilly grabbed him and made him put up his wand.

"He's not worth it, James," she said. He hesitantly shoved his wand back in his pocket.

"What's going on in there," James asked one of the eager spectators.

"It's the Boy Who Lived!" the short man exclaimed, jumping up and down. "Our savior!"

"Excuse me," James said as he began pushing through the crowd, this time out of excitement rather than anger. He pulled Lilly behind him. "Just like I said honey. Our hope! It's fate!"

Lilly held onto his mother as they squeezed through the crowd to get inside the bookstore.

"Thank you all so very much for your time!" Harry heard the magnified voice from the front of the store. "It's been a pleasure, and I can't wait to see what Hogwarts has in store for me. I wish I could thank each of you individually, but I'm very busy, as you all know. I have many things to prepare before my departure on the Hogwarts express." Harry jumped to see above the heads in the crowd and caught a short glimpse of a very familiar face.

This face he had seen a countless number of times on the front page of the Daily Prophet. It was the face of one of the greatest young wizards in the world. It was the face of redemption. As his father put it quite often, it was the face of hope. It was the face of "The Chosen One," as many called him. The face of the destroyer of evil. The face of the Boy Who Lived. The face of none other than Neville Longbottom.


End file.
